I am grateful for the childhood I had. I was raised in Brooklyn, New York. A city upbringing has its drawbacks, but it also had many advantages. We weren't poor. There was food on the table and a roof over our heads, but there were not a lot of extras. Hand-me-down clothes and toys were the rule. I did go to parochial school, so my uniform saved me from being ridiculed about clothes that didn't quite fit and were past their prime. On the other hand, my folks were never in debt. They did not spend what they did not have. That fact made them comfortable and therefore I was secure.
I was a rough and tumble little girl. I could keep up with the boys. I could run, climb and play ball with the best of them. Dungarees (as they were known back in the day) were my play clothes of choice, but I was quite slimly built and keeping them up was a problem. My mom took me to the children's store to buy suspenders. I saw a belt. It was the most beautiful thing I had ever seen. It was heavy clear plastic with images and the words from the Davy Crockett song. Davy Crockett, King of the Wild Frontier was a tv show on Sunday evenings. I asked my mother if I could have that belt instead and in a moment of weakness, my mom said yes. It was my prized possession. I admired my belt each time I put it on or took it off. My worn clothes were of no consequence as long as I had Davy.
I wish kids today could once experience their own version of that Davy Crockett belt. I always felt joy and a little excitement at play clothes time as soon as Davy came out of the drawer. I'm sure some of that pride of ownership came from getting something new and being granted a spur of the moment wish. I can still see that belt in my mind's eye. It brought me more than 60 years of smiles. I think mom made a pretty good call that day.